Page 61 of The Art of Scandal

“No, just this and beer.”

“I should have taught you how to keep a bar.”

Beto continued his story, recalling how they had met in Miami, on the set of Sofia’s telenovela. The CEO Beto was courting for a merger was a fan of the show, and Sofia played his favorite character, Lourdes Santana, the red-lipped femme fatale. Beto got backstage access to win him over. “She comes out—you know your mother—she’s wearing this sheer robe.” He chuckled, and nodded his thanks when Nathan handed him another drink. “Beautiful body. An hourglass, with huge—”

“Dad,no.”

“Sorry. You get it. She was gorgeous. And I wanted her.” He took a deep breath. “It was her eyes. You could fall into those eyes, right? Never stop, just keep going.” He glanced at Nathan and cleared his throat. “We walk into her dressing room, and there’s this guy in the corner holding her purse. Now, I’m all for gender equality, but seriously. He’s holding her purse. A woman like that, it’s not where your hands should be.”

Nathan shuddered. “Please move on.”

Beto paused to drink before continuing. “This next part I’m not proud of. Your mother had every right to knock me on my ass. But as everyone’s saying goodbye, I pull her away from him. I’d never do that shit now. It’s classless. But she was getting away from me and I couldn’t let that happen. She looked up and—” His voice caught, and he looked at his fingers. “Those goddamn eyes.”

Beto went back to the set the next day, waited until she was done shooting, and asked her out to dinner. “The day after that, I did the same thing. Every day, for three weeks. It was supposed to be a weekend trip, but I couldn’t leave her.”

“What about Nelson?”

“Who?”

“The boyfriend.”

“Oh. What about him?” He shrugged. “I’m sure she let him down easy. I asked her to marry me a few months later.”

Beto’s version differed from Sofia’s. Listening to his dad, it was more like some soul mate, love-at-first sight connection that anyone would have been happy to tell over and over. But Sofia downplayed everything that came before they were engaged.

“So when did things…”

Beto frowned. “When did things what?”

“You know, change between you two?”

“What change? I love your mother.”

Nathan laughed. “Yeah, but you two fought a lot when I was in the house, about everything. Especially—”

“Especially what?”

Nathan was too stunned to speak. Years of earsplitting shouting matches about Beto’s affairs came tumbling back. As a kid, he used to hide in his closet with his fists in his ears and a ball of fury lodged in his throat. Now that same lump kept him mute as Beto reddened with rising anger.

“Spit it out.” Beto set his drink on one of Rachel’s pictures. Nathan moved it to the side. “I see how you look at me. Is that why you hate me? Because you think I don’t deserve your mother?”

“I never said that.”

“You’ve always been a shitty liar. When you even bother to try. It can be a kindness, you know. Not throwing a man’s mistakes in his face whenever you get the chance.”

Nathan stood, grabbed both empty glasses, and headed to the kitchen. “Only you could turn lying into a virtue.”

Beto stood. “You always do this. Pick a fight and play innocent.”

“I didn’t pick this fight. You’re the one who came here, to what? Make yourself feel better? Check me off some list?” Nathan had almost fallen for it too. No matter how hard he tried not to be that gullible kid who wanted his father’s approval, Beto would pull it out of him every time. And it hurt. He was so sick of this feeling.

Beto flung his hands at Nathan’s chest. “So now I can’t reach out to my son?”

“For what? Your last play to get into heaven?”

Beto grimaced like he’d been punched. Until now, Nathan had never thought of his anger as destructive. Not when it got him into trouble at school. Not when he broke that chair and had to pry splinters from his hand. Not when he decided to leave home. To him, it was survival, not some bitter, spiteful choice that left his family in pieces. But in that moment, seeing his father practically stumble back, Nathan finally realized the damage he could cause. That he could cut deep enough to leave a scar.

“That wasn’t…” Nathan trailed off, floundering. “I—”

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